


Harmonize: Out of Time

by Katkee



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Episode: s01e15 Out of Time, Gen, Harmonize, missing chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 10:29:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6851050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katkee/pseuds/Katkee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The missing episode, Out of Time, from phate_phoenix's <i>Harmonize</i>:</p><p>  <i>Barry wants to catch his mother's murderer. Caitlin wants her fiancé. Cisco wants a weapon. Hartley wants his freedom. Eobard wants to go home.</i><br/><i>Things change. Some things don't.</i><br/><i>(A telling of the new timeline.)</i></p><p>I recommend reading the rest of <i>Harmonize</i> first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harmonize: Out of Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [phate_phoenix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/phate_phoenix/gifts), [ScribeOfRhapsody](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScribeOfRhapsody/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Harmonize](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6564568) by [phate_phoenix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/phate_phoenix/pseuds/phate_phoenix). 



> So many thanks to phate_phoenix for writing _Harmonize_ and allowing me to write this meta-fanfiction of it! This isn't _Harmonize_ canon, but it's a possibility for Out of Time.

 

 _“I’m running out of time. I’m running and my time’s up…”_ –Lin-Manuel Miranda, _Hamilton_.

 

* * *

 

Hartley was a little distracted that morning.

It had taken almost two weeks for Wells to let him back into the lab.  _Two weeks._  And Hartley was convinced the only reason it happened at all was because Cisco had dragged a rolling workstation and chair down to the pipeline entrance and  _sat there_  for the whole second week. Hartley was very thankful to Cisco for getting him out, but he knew he had to do something. There had to be a way to get the batteries and wires from under his workstation and into his cell. The fact that the scanners no longer worked on his cast had to be good for  _something._

If Wells could put him on lockdown whenever he pleased, Hartley might never escape.

Another problem was that Wells was a paranoid  _ass._  Simply keeping all of the materials in his cell wasn’t an option, because the cells were swapped out while they bathed. And slowly modifying Hartley’s hearing dampeners wouldn’t work either: they were made with short battery lives—a week—and also had to be swapped out. Anything Hartley did had to be movable, hidden from the scanners and cameras, and be used almost immediately.

“Is everything alright, Mister Rathaway?” Wells asked, coolly. He was sitting in the middle of the control room, surrounded by images of the Mardon Brothers—bank robbers turned  _storm sorcerers._

Hartley froze. He hadn’t just thought that.

Oh no.

He was turning into  _Cisco._

“Perfectly fine,” Hartley drawled, just as cool, and tried to worm a finger down the palm of his hand-cast. “Cisco and Caitlin are walking down the hall now.”

Talking about a birthday party for Cisco’s brother, it seemed.

“I’m rescinding your invite,” Cisco declared as they entered the lab, Caitlin mock-pouting at his side. Cisco looked around, slurping on his cherry-red slushie, and grinned at the Flash. “Hey, Flash, you want to come to my brother’s birthday party instead?”

“We have bigger problems right now,” Wells said. “Namely, Mardon.”

Cisco frowned. “Clyde Mardon is dead.”

“It’s the other one,” Hartley said.

“Clyde Mardon has a brother?” Caitlin approached the screens.

Wells moved across the lab toward them. “And both Mardon brothers survived the plane crash and then the dark matter from the particle accelerator explosion affects them both in virtually the same way.”

“Only Mark’s powers seem to be a lot more precise,” the Flash added.

“He created a hailstorm indoors,” Hartley said, tightening a final screw on the Expecto-No. “Controlling atmospheric pressure and temperature to that effect—”

Cisco cut him off. “He’d have to be a Weather Wizard.” Hartley glanced up to see the unbearably smug expression on Cisco’s face. “Been waiting to use that one since week one.”

He slurped at his slushie. Hartley looked back down at the Expecto-No, ignoring Cisco’s groan of pain that followed. The Expecto-No Patr _unos_ was done. Now he just had to switch it on to test that the power was wired correctly.

“Trigeminal headache?” Caitlin asked Cisco.

“What?”

“Brain freeze,” Hartley supplied. He propped the gun on the back of his cast and readied the switch.

“Then why don’t you just call it that?” Cisco asked snarkily.

Hartley flipped the switch.

He heard it before it happened, a thin stuttering whine that definitely should not have been there.

Then vibrations _blasted_ from the Expecto-No, and Hartley immediately dropped the gun. The air shimmered around the pulses as they tore through the lab.

The sound was _agonizing_. Tears of pain sprung to Hartley’s eyes, and he sunk to his knees.

Though his vision was blurred, he could see the whole table of computers topple over. The Flash blazed across the room, pulling Cisco from the path of the wreckage.

Wells shifted in his chair, and Hartley would have screamed if he could have through his gritted teeth—he was gripping the arms of the wheelchair, he was _about to stand up_ , how could _nobody see this_?

The Flash sped toward the gun, but the pulsing vibrations repelled him. He went flying across the lab.

Hartley struggled to his feet, because nobody else was going to stop this, and reached blindly for his gloves. The Expecto-No was firing away from him, but the waves resonated throughout the lab and that screaming unrelenting _noise_ was filling his ears.

His fingertips caught the edge of the right glove and he scrambled to shove it on, ignoring the pain in his left hand.

Hartley stuck his hand out toward the gun and twitched his fingers and finally the Expecto-No stopped firing, the sound shut off, and Wells, _damn_ him, settled back into his wheelchair.

The gun blew itself apart into dozens of bits of metal. The computers were shattered, and there were holes ripped through the walls around the lab, sparks scattering out of them.

The Flash got to his feet and looked at Hartley, confusion more than suspicion in his expression. Cisco and Caitlin glanced at each other, wide-eyed and relieved.

Hartley pulled off the glove and set it down, listening to their heartbeats slow. Listening to his own heartbeat slow. He exchanged a nervous glance with the Flash, Cisco, and Caitlin.

They all looked at Wells.

Wells was _furious_. Hartley could hear more than see the veins throbbing in his neck, the click of his teeth grating together.

But there was also a vindicated glint in his eyes.

“I didn’t mean for that to happen,” Hartley defended himself. Not that it would matter. This was the perfect excuse for Wells to lock him up and throw away the key. Nothing he could say would change that.

“Hartley,” Wells started.

“Doctor Wells,” Cisco blurted. “If Hartley had been trying to kill us, we’d be dead.”

Hartley blinked.

“Yeah,” the Flash said. “He _stopped_ it. It was an accident.”

Wells cleared his throat. “Be that as it may, Mister Rathaway nearly killed all of us. _Again_ , I might add.”

“Doctor Wells, please—“ Caitlin started.

A huge burst of sparks flew from one of the gaps in the wall and the lights went out, leaving STAR Labs in darkness.

Hartley winced at the silence that followed the loss of power, and then his eyes widened. “ _Flash_ , the cells. The other metas—“

“We have to turn on the generator,” Cisco said.

Immediately, Hartley heard the Flash buzz down the hallway, crash into a wall in the darkness, and then continue to run.

Hartley listened to the heartbeats of the others as they waited.

He found himself, _damn it_ , hoping the Flash would return safe.

A low whine lifted into Hartley’s hearing. He let out a near-silent sigh of relief. The lights came on a moment afterwards, and Hartley listened as the others breathed their relief.

The Flash buzzed back in. “It’s all right. The power kicked in before any of the metas tried the doors.”

“It’s good you thought of the pipeline, Hartley,” Caitlin said.

“I spend most of my time in there. It’s hard not to.”

“Really, thanks, Hartley,” the Flash added.

Wells narrowed his eyes at Hartley. “‘Ab honesto virum bonum nihil deterret’?” His expression made it clear that he still favored the throw-away-the-key plan.

“Illi tibi non ignoscant,” Hartley retorted, keeping his face blank. “Non amplius.”

“Videbimus.”

“Can you guys stop with the Latin for a minute?” Cisco asked. “I mean, really, it’s a dead language for a reason.”

Wells spun his wheelchair to face Cisco. “Of course. Mister Rathaway will be fixing the walls and constructing a new gun. When this one requires testing, he will _not_ be the one to do so.”

Hartley kept his breathing normal, suppressing the internal glee he felt at having beaten Wells, for _once_.

Cisco looked back and forth between Hartley and Wells, frowning slightly.

“Anyway, how are we going to defeat Marden?” the Flash asked. “Because he’s after J—Detective West, and we need to stop him before he hurts anyone else.”

“Oh, I just remembered.” Cisco’s expression cleared. “During our run-in with Mardon, _Clyde_ Mardon, I was tinkering with something to help attract unbound atmospheric electrons.”

“Like a grounding mechanism?” the Flash asked.

“Yeah, because the only way that Mardon can control the weather is if he can tap into the atmosphere's natural electrical circuit, and if we take away that circuit, clear skies.”

“I can help confirm the frequency for your…” Hartley smirked. “Wizard’s Wand.”

Cisco’s eyes went wide with delight.

“No,” Wells said. He pointed at the many holes in the wall, which were still shooting sparks in all directions. “You need to fix your mistake, Mister Rathaway.”

Hartley grit his teeth and nodded. He started searching for wires and wire cutters on his workstation.

“We can contact Felicity, see if she can set us up with more computers,” Cisco said.

“Felicity?” Hartley asked, raising an eyebrow. “Did you get a girlfriend, _Cisquito_?”

Cisco smirked at him.

“Felicity is a friend of ours in Starling City,” Wells said. “Flash, you ought to get going.”

The Flash didn’t say anything for a moment.

“Flash?” Wells said.

“Yeah, I just… Something weird happened earlier. With everything going on with Mardon, I forgot.”

“What is it?” Wells asked. Cisco and Caitlin looked at Barry curiously. Hartley continued to dig for the tools he needed to fix the wiring.

“When I was running to the morgue earlier, I saw another Flash running beside me.”

Hartley looked up, surprised.

“Did you time travel?” Cisco asked gleefully. “Where’s the other one?”

“No, at least, I don’t think so. He disappeared.”

Wells straightened his glasses. “It may have been an optical illusion, a mirroring effect caused by wind shear and light. A speed mirage, if you will.”

“It didn’t seem like that,” the Flash said.

“Let’s focus on stopping Mardon,” Wells said. “Then we’ll concern ourselves with this other Flash.”

The Flash nodded. “I have to go. I’ll call you if I have any updates on Mardon.”

“Would you switch off the main power so I don’t electrocute myself?” Hartley asked. He was sure Wells would enjoy watching that.

“No problem.” The Flash blurred out of the room. After a moment, the sparks stopped flying from the wall.

Hartley walked over to the first of the holes in the wall and carefully started snipping wires.

“I’ll go test the Wizard’s Wand.” Cisco started over to his workstation. “Such a great name, Hartley!”

“I’ll contact Felicity,” Caitlin said.

Hartley ignored Wells, though he could tell the man was glowering at his back. He had two goals.

First, fix the wall. Second, find a way to escape before Wells could find a way to shut him in the pipeline forever.

 

* * *

 

Repairing the wiring was _tedious_. Wells must have been trying to bore Hartley to death. He was doing a good job of it.

Finally, he finished, just as the Flash blurred back in.

“It’s done.” Cisco displayed the completed Wizard’s Wand.

“How does it work?” Caitlin asked Cisco.

“Just think of it like an active lightning rod. You just point it up at the sky, and it'll suck up whatever energy's floating around it like a sponge.”

“And it’ll stop Mardon?” the Flash asked.

“Well, it’ll certainly slow him down. If there’s no atmospheric electrons available to him, there’s no way for him to control the weather.” Wells turned to Caitlin. “Doctor Snow, did you make any progress on acquiring new computers?”

Caitlin nodded and went to her workstation, her heels clicking loudly against the floor. “Felicity gave us a phone number and address for the Palmer Technologies branch here in Central City. She said they’d have computers ready for us.” She held out a sheet of paper.

“Thank you, Caitlin.” Wells took the paper. “I’ll go speak with them.”

“I could go if you’d like, Doctor Wells,” Caitlin offered.

Wells shook his head and smiled briefly. “I need to… stretch my legs anyway.”

Hartley waited until he could no longer hear the buzzing of Wells’s wheelchair before allowing himself to relax.

The Flash leaned against the now-upright computer desk.

“You okay?” Caitlin asked him. “You seem a little off.”

Hartley returned to his workstation and felt for the batteries and wires beneath the desk. He had to sneak them into his cell somehow, as soon as he could.

“Yeah, yeah,” he heard the Flash respond quietly. “Somebody at… somebody at Picture News got it into… my friend’s head that something suspicious is going on with Doctor Wells.”

Hartley froze.

His heartbeat spiked, pounding loudly in his ears. He _listened_.

“Like what?” Caitlin asked.

“That he knows what happened to Simon Stagg. Apparently, nobody’s heard from him or seen him since the night I stopped Danton Black.”

Hartley clenched his teeth together. _Cameras_. He said nothing. They didn’t look at him and _he_ _said nothing_.

“What’d you tell your friend?” Cisco asked.

“That she’s wrong,” the Flash said immediately with a dismissive shrug. “And she is.” He glanced across the lab at Hartley, who quickly busied himself tidying up his station.

His heart was still pattering far too rapidly in his chest. The Flash disappeared to some other part of STAR Labs. Caitlin walked off as well.

Hartley watched Cisco slowly pick up the Wizard’s Wand and fiddle with it.

Cisco’s heart was beating quickly too.

“I’ll take this down to the precinct,” Cisco said, glancing at Hartley. “See you.”

Hartley nodded. His mind was racing.

If they suspected Wells…

He couldn’t tell them what he knew anyway.

Could he?

A few minutes later, Caitlin reentered the room and frowned at Hartley. “Are _you_ okay?”

“Of course.” Hartley focused on keeping his expression blank. “I’m sorry I blew up the lab.”

She smiled a little. “It’s not a big deal. We all make mistakes.”

 _Except Wells_.

“Thanks.” Hartley gave a false smile back.

Caitlin seemed to notice that it was forced. Before she could comment, Hartley held up his hand. The Flash’s phone was ringing in the other room.

 _“Mardon’s at the precinct,”_ Cisco’s voice came through the phone.

Hartley stopped thinking about Wells and looked at Caitlin, worried.

“What is it?” she asked.

The Flash buzzed through the room, not even pausing to explain the situation.

“What’s going on?”

“The Weather Wizard just showed up at the police station,” Hartley said.

“I’m sure the Flash can handle it,” Caitlin said, though her quickening pulse betrayed her fear.

“I hope so.”

The sound of Wells’s wheelchair approached down the hallway.

“Wells is on his way.”

 _Could_ he tell them what he knew? 

 

* * *

 

“All right, Cisco, Hartley, I’m heading home,” Caitlin said later that night. The Flash still hadn’t returned, but he’d reported back that the police captain was injured and Mardon had escaped.

“See you, Caitlin,” Hartley said.

Cisco didn’t respond. He was working at one of the newly installed computers.

“Cisco?” Caitlin asked. “All right, fine, I will watch every episode of The Walking Dead with you.”

Hartley glanced up for a moment and then continued to work. He was on the second iteration of the gun, the Expecto-No Patro _dos_.

“Hey, you couldn’t have stopped Mardon from attacking the police station. It’s not your fault.”

“No, that’s not it.” Cisco took a deep breath, the sound loud in the empty lab. “What do you think of Doctor Wells?”

Hartley grit his teeth. His pulse quickened again.

“What do you mean?” Caitlin asked.

“I mean, do you think he’s capable of doing something bad?”

Hartley dropped the Expecto-No.

Caitlin and Cisco turned toward him.

“Hartley?” Caitlin asked. “You’ve been acting strange all day, ever since… since the Flash told us about his friend’s suspicion.”

“Do you know something about Wells?” Cisco asked.

It was too late to fake innocence.

 _Screw Wells_.

Hartley picked up one of his gloves and switched on a low-level frequency. Caitlin and Cisco both winced at the irritating buzz, but Hartley barely flinched.

He approached them and spoke quickly and quietly.

“The frequency should white out any camera footage in the vicinity for as long as it’s on. Cisco, what were you going to say about Wells?”

Cisco looked even more serious than before. “Um. Joe said that maybe Doctor Wells was involved in a murder fifteen years ago.”

Caitlin’s eyes went wide. “You mean…” She glanced at Hartley.

Cisco looked at Hartley too and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter if he knows. The Flash’s mom’s murder, yeah.”

 _The Flash’s mom was murdered?_ Hartley filed that information away to think about later. Right now there was a more important conversation.

“That’s absurd,” Caitlin said. “Doctor Wells is a good man.”

Hartley kept quiet.

“I know it sounds weird, but some things aren’t adding up,” Cisco said. “Look at this.”

Both Caitlin and Hartley leaned over to look. Hartley stayed a couple of steps back so his handcuffs wouldn’t lock down the system.

On the screen was an image of some sort of device. The words ‘Critical Warning’ flashed over it.

“What am I looking at?” Hartley asked.

“The Flash has this enemy in yellow. The Reverse-Flash,” Cisco explained. “One night we trapped him in a containment system, or so we thought. The system failed, and he escaped. But I checked that data three times, and the super-capacitors were still fully charged when he got out. The numbers don’t add up. There’s no reason the containment system should have failed.”

“I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation,” Caitlin said.

“One perfectly good explanation is that Doctor Wells did something to the trap.”

Hartley scoffed. “I believe that.”

The other two looked at him.

“You do?” Caitlin asked. “I don’t…”

Hartley shook his head. “Listen. Wells has secrets. I _know_ his secrets.”

They were listening. Cisco looked scared. Caitlin looked doubtful.

Hartley took a breath. He could still hear his glove emitting the right frequency. “Before the particle accelerator accident, I knew there was a chance it might explode.”

Caitlin turned deadly serious. “And you didn’t tell anyone?”

Hartley laughed bitterly. “I told Wells.”

“And _he_ didn’t tell anyone,” Cisco said.

Hartley nodded. “He fired me. He _fired_ me for doing my job, and he said that if I told anyone else, he would destroy my career. I should have gone straight to the media, but I didn’t, and look what’s happened now.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Caitlin said comfortingly.

“Why would he keep it a secret? Why not shut it down?” Cisco asked.

“I have no idea,” Hartley said. “But that’s not all I know. It gets worse.”

“What could be worse than him allowing the particle accelerator to explode?” Caitlin asked.

“He can walk.”

Cisco and Caitlin’s mouths both dropped open with audible _pop_ s.

“Are you sure?” Caitlin asked.

Hartley nodded.

“But why fake paralysis?” Cisco asked.

“And why haven’t you told us any of this before?” Caitlin added.

“I don’t know the answer to the first one,” Hartley said. “But for the second… Wells came to visit me in the pipeline before you let me out for the first time. He said if I breathed a word of his secrets to anyone, he would do _worse_ than blackmail me. This man who disappeared, Simon Stagg, maybe Wells killed him, along with the Flash’s mom. He would kill _me_ if he knew what I told you. Maybe all of us.”

There was a silence when Hartley finished, punctuated only by the whine of his glove and their nervous breathing and rapid heartbeats.

“We have to check the containment system,” Cisco said finally. “Caitlin, can you keep Wells out of STAR Labs tomorrow morning?”

Caitlin, her eyes wide and her heartbeat fast, nodded.

Hartley returned to his workstation to switch off the glove. “You can take me back to my cell, Cisco.”

“Yeah, let’s go.” Cisco didn’t sound totally casual, but it was good enough to pass for normal.

They said nothing as they walked to the pipeline, both concerned about the cameras.

“See you tomorrow, Cisco,” Hartley said when his cell door closed.

“You too, Hartley.”

In the silence of the pipeline, Hartley could still hear his own heart pounding with fear.

It was going to be a long night.

 

* * *

 

Cisco returned in the morning and opened Hartley’s cell. He didn’t look well rested.

“You didn’t sleep well either?” Hartley asked.

Cisco shook his head. “Caitlin’s with Wells at Jitters. Let’s go.”

Hartley hesitated. “I don’t think you should go. If Wells comes back, it’s better if he only sees me down there.”

“…Are you trying to sacrifice yourself for me?” Cisco asked. “Hartley, I have the Flash on speed dial. Nothing’s gonna happen. Besides, you don’t know how to check the containment system.”

“All right.” Hartley held out his hands.

“You don’t need the handcuffs,” Cisco said.

Hartley shook his head, firmly. “Put them on. If Wells catches us, you can claim I dragged you down there.”

Cisco opened his mouth, but Hartley glared at him.

“Fine,” Cisco relented. He secured the handcuffs around Hartley’s wrists and legs. “Happy?”

“Completely.”

They started down the hall.

“By the way, I named the second soundwave weapon prototype,” Hartley said. Cisco gave him a confused look. “It’s called the _Expecto-No Patrodos_.”

There was pure  _glee_  in Cisco’s eyes. “I’m so proud of you.”

“I hate you. You have _ruined_ my mind.”

They reached the containment system. Cisco connected his computer. Hartley plugged in the power cord.

“Let’s see if we can find out what really went wrong that night.” He started to type.

Hartley walked around the containment field, looking and listening for any damage that might explain what happened.

“ _What_?” Cisco said after a moment.

“What is it?”

“I don’t understand. Everything’s perfect. A hundred percent functional.”

“Then why did it fail?” Hartley went over and looked at the computer. Cisco was right, there was nothing wrong.

“I don’t know. This doesn’t make any sense.” Cisco went to the containment system interface and flipped a switch.

They both jumped. The system switched on and there, standing inside the containment field, was a man in a yellow suit with glowing red eyes.

“That’s him!” Cisco said. “The Reverse-Flash.”

Hartley, eyes narrowed, walked up and waved a hand through it. “It’s a hologram.”

“ _Doctor Wells_ ,” the hologram said. “ _We meet at last_.”

“That’s what he said at Christmas,” Cisco said, starting slowly toward the containment system.

“ _My goals are beyond your understanding._ ”

“Some sort of recording, tied to the power of the containment system,” Hartley said.

“When the system turns on, so does the hologram,” Cisco agreed.

There was the sound of footsteps beyond the door. Hartley turned to face the entrance, eyes widening.

His cuffs activated suddenly with no warning. The ones on his wrists attached to the ones on his legs, dragging him forward onto his knees.

“Hartley!” Cisco shouted, hurrying to his side. He ran his fingers over the scanners and the lights blinked red. “It’s not working.”

“Wells is coming,” Hartley said. “Cisco, hide, run, _something_. He’s going to be here in seconds.”

“I’m not leaving you!” Cisco tried to remove the cuffs again.

“You designed the handcuffs, remember? It won’t _work_ ,” Hartley insisted. “You don’t have _time_ , hurry!”

“ _Oh, I’m not like the Flash at all,”_ the hologram said. Cisco stood up and took a step toward the door.

The door opened.

Wells stood there, without his glasses or wheelchair.

“ _Some would say I’m the Reverse_ ,” he said in tandem with the image behind Hartley and Cisco.

The hologram shut off, and Hartley realized he’d made a deadly mistake.

He’d underestimated the scope of what Wells was.

Wells started forward, clapping. “You two are incredibly clever. I’ve always thought that if you could work together, you could achieve great things.”

Hartley struggled against the cuffs, but it was useless. The magnets were too strong. “Doctor Wells, Cisco had nothing to do with this. I dragged him down here. He didn’t want anything to do with it.”

“Ah,” Wells said. He raised an eyebrow. “But then, how would you know about the containment system?”

 _Crap_.

“Besides,” Wells continued, “you’ve both seen who I am.” He gestured to the containment system.

“You’re him,” Cisco said. “The Reverse-Flash.”

“I’ve never truly, properly introduced myself to either of you.” Wells smiled. “I am Eobard Thawne.” He ducked his head for a moment.

“Thawne. Like Eddie.”

“Let’s call him a distant relative,” Wells— _Thawne_ —said.

“You’re from the future,” Hartley realized. “The Flash can time travel. So can you.”

Thawne nodded. That small smile was still on his face, the one that screamed _you’re doomed_ in Hartley’s ears.

“That night we trapped the Reverse-Flash,” Cisco said. “There were two of you.”

Thawne held up a finger. He blurred, moving back and forth between two spots. The blurring disappeared, leaving two identical figures.

Cisco walked forward. Hartley heard his heartbeat spike with fear.

The one on the right looked at the other. “It’s an afterimage. A speed mirage, if you will.”

They blurred back into each other, and Thawne walked over to Cisco’s computer and shut it.

“How many people have you _killed_?” Hartley asked. “Simon Stagg, the Flash’s mother, how many more?”

“Joe was right,” Cisco said. “You were there that night, fifteen years ago.”

“It was never my intention to kill the Flash’s mother,” Thawne said. He started to walk around the two of them. Hartley was reminded of a hawk circling its prey. “I was there to kill the Flash.”

“Why? You’re his friend. You’ve been—”

“ _Using_ him,” Hartley inserted. “Like you use all of us.”

“He needs to be _faster_. A means to an end. And I’ll tell you why.” Thawne continued circling them, Cisco frozen in place with shock and Hartley confined to his uncomfortable kneeling position. “Because I have been stuck here, marooned here in this place for _fifteen long years_. And the Flash, and the Flash's _speed_ , is the key to my returning to my world. To my time.”

He paused in front of them, his mocking smile still in place.

“And no one is going to prevent that from happening.”

Hartley heard Cisco’s terrified gulp.

“We can help you,” Cisco said. “Hartley and I.”

“We’ll find a way to return you to your time,” Hartley agreed. His heart beat fast in his chest and he knew it wasn’t going to work. This was the man who’d blackmailed him, who’d allowed a particle accelerator to explode, who’d _murdered_ before.

Thawne shook his head. “You’re smart, both of you. But you’re not that smart.”

He raised a hand and it began to vibrate. Hartley could hear the thrumming of the movement. Thawne took a few steps toward Cisco, who cringed away from him and bowed his head.

Thawne lowered his hand slightly. “Cisco, do you know how hard it’s been for me to keep all of this from you, _especially_ from _you_? Because the truth is, I’ve grown quite fond of you. And in many ways, you’ve shown me what it’s like to have a son.”

Cisco looked up at him, and Thawne’s hand blurred into his chest with a flicker of red lightning.

“Forgive me,” Thawne murmured, keeping eye contact with Cisco. “But to me, you’ve been dead for centuries.”

He pulled his hand out, and Cisco slumped to the ground, a bloodstain spreading across his shirt.

Hartley flinched away from Cisco’s body, his _corpse._

Thawne turned toward him, with that same damned _smile_.

“You tell him he’s like a _son_ and then kill him?” Hartley felt like he was choking. “That’s _sick_. We’re all just pawns to you, aren’t we? Always the chessmaster, _Thawne_.”

He heard Thawne’s delighted exhale. “The last person to call me that was the Flash from the future. After fifteen years, it is _so_ good to hear that name again.” He crouched in front of Hartley.

Hartley refused to look away. He wouldn’t give Thawne the satisfaction of his fear.

“You’re right. It’s always a chess game with us, Hartley.” Thawne _laughed_. He was _enjoying_ this. “I’m sure you know the term _zwischenzug_?”

He ran his finger over the scanner on Hartley’s handcuffs. All four of the cuffs fell off.

Hartley looked down at them, and then back up at Thawne.

Zwischenzug: an unexpected move made in place of an obvious capture.

Thawne gripped the front of Hartley’s shirt and pulled him to his feet. Then he stepped back and spread his arms wide, still smirking.

“Run, Hartley,” he said, simply.

Hartley realized the full extent of Thawne’s intentions. If Hartley ran, it would look like _he_ killed Cisco. The Flash would come after him, and he’d be thrown back in the pipeline, with no hope of ever getting out again. Anything he said against Thawne would only sound like the crazy excuses of a murderer. Caitlin, _maybe_ Caitlin would suspect, but she was always more on Thawne’s side.

But if he didn’t run, Thawne would just kill him now.

“ _Zugzwang_ ,” Hartley said. Also chess: a situation in which any possible move only worsened the player’s position.

Thawne gave a single nod, victorious glee in his eyes.

“Run,” he repeated.

Hartley ran.

**Author's Note:**

>  **  
> **  
> Translations:  
>   
> 
> Ab honesto virum bonum nihil deterret  
> \- Latin; _Nothing deters a good man from the performance of his duties_  
>  Previously said by Hartley to Wells.
> 
> Illi tibi non ignoscant  
> \- Latin; _They would not forgive you_  
>  Thanks to DJA for the correction.
> 
> Non amplius  
> \- Latin; _Not anymore_
> 
> Videbimus  
> \- Latin; _We’ll see_
> 
> Zwischenzug  
> \- German; _A chess term meaning an unexpected move. Literally, intermediate move._
> 
> Zugzwang  
> \- German; _A chess term meaning a situation in which any move only worsens a player’s position. Literally, compulsion to move._


End file.
